


unknown number (why does he want me dead?)

by orphan_account



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Angst, Intrusive Thoughts, M/M, Manipulation, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, and i'll add more tags as i continue, i don't know the extent of the joshler that's going to be in this, i'm planning to make this pretty sad and potentially disturbing, it might never have a definite beginning though and could take time to develop, most likely no smut but it might have them in a loose romantic relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-02
Updated: 2016-02-02
Packaged: 2018-05-17 19:53:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5883514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>his chance at relief is dashed when a blank text from an unknown number takes his attention away from the pills in his hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	unknown number (why does he want me dead?)

**Author's Note:**

> so this first chapter is kinda ambiguous but you can probably guess which one of the two it's about. it might take time to build up but i'm hoping to make this painful and slightly disturbing so hopefully that works out.

He's standing in front of the sink when it all starts.

The box stands out against the white porcelain. His eyes focus solely on the words, " _fastest acting pain reliever!"_ He hopes so. He needs fast. It's been too long already. Relief. That's a word that sounds more appealing to him than water after three days in a desert would be to anyone normal. He knows he isn't normal.

His gaze slowly trails to the sickeningly orange-red blobs resting in his creased palm. They're pills, he knows, because the sound of them rattling against one another as they fell into his grip wouldn't stop echoing in his head. He didn't mind. He knew it would stop soon. The thought brought slight ease to the strain in his shoulders.

Words that he knows are printed neatly onto the tablets are blurry to his eyes, tears creating a thick cover over the world. But wait, he isn't crying. He knows he hasn't cried in months. Now he isn't sure why he can't read the small text on the pills. He doesn't care enough to question it.

The hand is slowly raised to his mouth, and he is not staring at it, but rather at the drain leading to dark nothingness down the pipes. His eyes slip shut as the pills clatter loudly against his crooked teeth, not yet traveling down his throat.

Then.

A buzzing sound brings him back to where he is, clears the fog around his eyes, and he clamps his mouth down, holding the medicine in his mouth and standing frozen. He doesn't understand why he stopped, but the bitter taste is getting to him, so he spits it out. Fifteen sickeningly orange-red pills, now slightly wet, sing out as they hit the surface of the sink, a tune he has now heard thrice in the wake of his failures.

Inhaling, he turns around, facing his deterrent. The only people he gets texts from are his family, and even that isn't often as they rarely speak to him in person now. More than that, his whole family is asleep at the moment.

Blearily, he takes steps over to his phone, resting with a corner hanging over the edge of the oak table. The rattling in his head lingers, mixing with a tingling in his fingers from a touch of the screen. The press of a button lights the screen up, revealing one notification. _**Unknown number** 1 new iMessage_.

He opens the text against his better judgement. Confusion begins to form as he sees a blank text, as if the sender decided to send him only a space. He is about to delete the message when a gray thought bubble pops up from the other number, making him pause his fingers above the glowing screen.

As the gray circles continue to pulse on his screen, he begins to frown, realizing that the empty text is what distracted him from finding his relief. Something so pointless. He couldn't blame the unknown number, though. It was his own fault for stopping.

His train of thought comes to a halt as the phone moves in his hands. His eyes quickly flick down, and he can't explain why his throat constricts at the simple message he sees:

_DON T_


End file.
